


Bet on Me

by forks



Series: the Jets bets [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018-2019 NHL Season, 5+1 Things, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sex Bets, Winnipeg Jets, bruises/marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forks/pseuds/forks
Summary: Five times Nikolaj loses a bet to Patrik, and one time he doesn’t.





	Bet on Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silkstocking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkstocking/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, silkstocking! I had a lot of fun writing this (and really must thank the Jets for their awesome November since it pretty much structured this perfectly for me). I truly hope I did this fic justice for you and that you enjoy reading it. :)

**1.**

“Some of the guys are going out tonight, Patrik.” Nikolaj looks up from his phone and the group chat where plans are being made. He’s sprawled out on the couch in the apartment Patrik rents in Winnipeg. “Wanna go?”

It’s a shot in the dark, Nikolaj knows. Patrik Laine is a lot of things, and one of them is an introverted hermit.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Nikolaj has seen Patrik party plenty of times, and go out with the team. But, usually, given the choice? Patrik stays in. Or maybe goes to a house party. He’s not big at going out in public.

Not that Nikolaj blames him. Hell, even Nikolaj gets stopped by fans when he’s taking his family around the shopping mall. Patrik Laine out in Winnipeg? He’s easily one of the most recognizable faces in such a small market city. 

Still. Training camp is over and the pre-season is about to begin. And as great as it is to finally see Patrik, Nikolaj wouldn’t mind hanging with the other guys and having a night out before the grind begins. Having Patrik along with him would be all the better. 

“Come on,” Nikolaj reiterates. “Let’s go.”

“Nah.” Patrik barely acknowledges him from where he’s staring at the television screen, Sportscenter reporting on the progress of various training camps. He’s in the chair he has set up for video games, though. Nikolaj can practically see Patrik’s hand shaking, itching to play. “You go, have fun.”

Nikolaj does want to go. But there’s a part of him that doesn’t, not if Patrik doesn’t. Even though their summer was shorter than usual, given their playoff run, it still felt way too long. He finally gets to hang out with Patrik again; maybe not the way he really wants, but he’ll take what he can get. He just has to convince Patrik to hang out with all the guys for a change.

“Tell you what,” Nikolaj says. “I’ll play one round of Chel with you. Then we go?”

“Best of three?”

“One,” Nikolaj says. “Best of one.”

Patrik scoffs. “What’s the point? You won’t beat me.”

“Wanna bet?”

It’s out of Nikolaj’s mouth before he can stop himself. Patrik looks over sharply, a smirk playing on his lips, and Nikolaj recognizes his mistake.

“Bet what?”

Nikolaj rolls his eyes. “I win, you go out with us. Obviously.”

“And if I win?”

“Then you don’t.”

Patrik shakes his head. “Not good enough. I can do that anyway.” He tilts his head for a moment, and then nods. “I win, you tie my skates for a week.”

“Practices only,” Nikolaj clarifies immediately.

“Practices only,” Patrik says agreeably. He knows the importance of keeping ones’ own pre-game routine, and Nikolaj trusts he won’t screw around with that.

“Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”

Nikolaj has two seasons under his belt of playing video games with Patrik. It’s even on way they kept in contact over the summer, when they couldn’t see each other but could play online anyway. Nikolaj is infinitely better than he used to be.

But, he knows as he sits down, it’s probably not enough. Not when he sees that competitive gleam in Patrik’s eye.

 

**

 

Trouba and Scheifs laugh the moment they walk into the locker room. It’s the least surprising thing in the world.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Nikolaj says. He pulls the laces on Patrik’s skates tighter.

“Too tight.” Patrik’s leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him in a V. Nikolaj is knelt on the floor between them, and loosens the laces.

“Looking good, Nik. Like it down there?” Trouba asks. It’s off the cuff, and probably no real nasty intent behind it, but Nikolaj’s cheeks heat anyway and he’s a bit sick in the stomach. He always is with remarks like that.

Mark smacks Trouba upside the head.

“Ow.” Trouba frowns and pats the hit spot. “What was that for?”

Wheels, seated down the bench from Patrik’s stall, looks up from his own skates. “You deserve it. Don’t talk like that here.”

Trouba nods and straightens his shoulders, looking cowed for approximately one second, though he covers it up by shoving Mark and they start a mini wrestling match, mostly elbows and attempted headlocks, and the moment passes.

Nikolaj shoots Wheels a quick, appreciative look—Blake _knows_ , knows more than anyone, because he’s a good captain and Nikolaj couldn’t help but trust him when he asked, one day, what was bothering Nikolaj and why. He couldn’t keep the secret anymore. Now he shares it with Wheels, who looks out for him without outing him, at least.

He turns back to Patrik. He’s slumped as casual and relaxed as a minute before, but there’s a sharp look to his eyes now. Assessing. 

Patrik probably knows, or at least has general guesses about Nikolaj. They couldn’t have spent that much time together and Patrik not know—Nikolaj has his own suspicions about Patrik. But neither of them have _said_. Haven’t expressly said it out loud to each other. Nothing confirmed.

Nikolaj can’t. Because it’s Patrik. And Patrik is a part of the—not problem, no, he’s finally convinced himself not to call it that. But Patrik is definitely a part of it. In ways he can’t ever know, not if Nikolaj is going to keep their friendship in tact.

Nikolaj looks back down at the skates. He tightens the laces on the left, but not too tight, and when Patrik doesn’t say anything he moves to the right.

“So why are you doing this?” Mark asks as he takes a seat in his stall next to Patrik’s.

“Other than your undying love for Patty, of course,” Trouba adds. Nikolaj likes Jacob, usually, he does, but today he also wants to put him in a headlock. 

“Lost a bet,” Nikolaj says, not looking up from where he’s looping the laces.

Patrik speaks, probably answering the questioning looks from teammates. “He bet he could beat me at Chel.”

Everyone in earshot laughs, even the younger guys trying out for the roster that are still up from the Moose, and the tension that was lodged in Nikolaj’s shoulders loosens.

“I know, I know,” he says. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, actually,” Adam Lowry says cheerfully. “Patty literally has videos of himself promoting games on his Instagram.” Some of the guys chuckle again.

Nikolaj ignores them. He pats the toe of the skate and looks up at Patrik. “Good?”

Patrik sits up and inspects them like an asshole. He leans over to tuck the lace end just how he likes it. He says, low and audible, “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

Nikolaj’s cheeks flame and he shakes his head. Did he hear right? Did anyone else hear? Mark is busy with his own skates and doesn’t look like he noticed anything. He risks a glance up, but Patrik is already making a move to stand up, and that would be awkward, his face right at Patrik’s crotch when he does, so Nikolaj moves too. 

“Thanks, Fly,” Patrik says more loudly. “Thank you for your service.”

“Anytime,” Nikolaj mutters as he goes to his own stall, and Patrik laughs at him. Rightfully so. 

“Just the rest of the week,” Patrik says, which makes the guys laugh again. 

Nikolaj joins them too, but he feels off-kilter, like he was struck in the chest with the end of a hockey stick but he wasn’t wearing any padding. Patrik’s words ring in his ears. Nikolaj’s knees hurt but his cheeks are warm, and he’s embarrassed to find he’s chubbing. It’s a good thing he’s not only in his Under Armour, his thick hockey pants covering up just how much Patrik’s words affected him. 

How much kneeling between his legs did.

He shakes his head. Not only are these fucking ridiculous thoughts to have—they’re buddies, after all, and only that—but the timing is really fucking inconvenient. 

“Maybe no more bets for a while,” Wheels says mildly when Nikolaj sits down.

He nods. It’s a good idea.

 

**2.**

 

Nikolaj really should take his captain’s advice.

And he also has to admit Adam was right, though he has no intention of doing so out loud. 

Nikolaj _is_ a fucking idiot.

Patrik smirks at him from where he’s sitting on the end of the hotel bed. They’re finally in the regular season, and they’re on their first road trip. The guys want to go out again, kick off the start of the season. Nikolaj wants to go—and he wants Patrik to go too.

Nikolaj and Patrik aren’t road roomies anymore—Nikolaj is off his ELC and gets his own room. Apparently that hasn’t stopped Patrik from coming over and making himself at home, setting up his console so it doesn’t bother his new road roomie. 

Patrik shakes the controller he’s holding. “You sure about this? You want to bet again?”

“What, afraid?” Patrik had brought it up, but Nikolaj isn’t going to back down.

“Nope,” Patrik says easily. “But I really don’t want to go out.”

“So you think I’ll win!” Nikolaj triumphantly waves a finger through the air.

Patrik rolls his eyes.

“Of course not. But I also don’t need you to tie my skates anymore.”

“Then pick something else! Anything else, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.” Nikolaj smirks confidently. “I’m going to win.”

Patrik tilts his head to the side, and drags his eyes slowly over Nikolaj. He has no idea why, really. They’re not going out for over an hour, so Nikolaj is still in sweats and a t-shirt. Patrik really shouldn’t be looking at him the way he is, and yet. That stupid annoying thing where Nikolaj’s chest tightens and it feels like he can’t breath? It happens the moment Patrik’s eyes meet his. 

“Anything?”

Nikolaj swallows. What could Patrik possibly want from him? 

“Yes.”

“So you would let me...” Patrik’s eyes drop down, just a little, to where the loose neckline of Nikolaj’s old shirt exposes his collarbone. “Give you a hickey?”

Nikolaj freezes. A heartbeat, then two, passes and he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know _what_ to say. His brain has stopped working.

Patrik, normally so confident, even when he gave that suggestion, suddenly has an uncomfortable air. He looks down to the controller in his hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Yes.”

Patrik glances up, finally meets Nikolaj’s eyes again. “If you don’t want, I won’t—”

“I said yes.” Nikolaj is proud that his voice doesn’t wobble. Because he would like that. So fucking much. He can’t let on, though. “Although, whatever, I’m going to win and you’re coming out tonight.”

“You think so, do you?” The smirk is back, and Patrik shifts over on the bed so Nikolaj can sit next to him. He passes the other controller. “You’re on.”

Nikolaj tries his best. There’s a part of him, the one that make his hands shake while holding the controller, that doesn’t want to win, so he can know what it’s like to get a hickey from Patrik Laine. But Nikolaj knows how to focus on a goal, even with the distractions of his personal life. A professional athlete has to do this, to perform at his job. And Nikolaj is competitive enough he does it now.

Though, Patrik is the same way. And actually excels at video games. So.

“I win.” Patrik’s voice is calm, even, but maybe a little more on the tentative side than usual.

“You do.” Nikolaj carefully puts the controller down on the ground beside the hotel bed, and then takes the one from Patrik’s hands and does the same. He shifts on the end of the bed so he’s facing Patrik. The nervousness—and anticipation—is shaking him to the core, but he does his best to sound confident. “Going to collect on that bet?”

“I want to.”

“You—” Nikolaj works up the courage to put his hand on Patrik’s thigh. Patrik stares at it, as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. It fills Nikolaj with the confidence he was seeking. They should probably talk about this. Finally. “And you actual want this, right? Like.” His English trips up a bit, stuck in his head to what he really wants to say, but he needs it to communicate right with Patrik. “A guy?”

Patrik nods. “You do too.” It’s not even a question. Patrik must know by now, so it doesn’t have to be.

“Well. Yeah.”

“I don’t get to a lot.”

“Me neither.” 

“So then this is friends who—” Patrik pauses, as if he’s searching for the right English phrase himself. “Friends who help each other out? But are still friends?”

Nikolaj’s heart sinks. But only for a second, because of course this is what Patrik wants. What he means. It was a bet, after all, not a date or an indication of a relationship. 

“Friends with benefits?” 

Patrik snaps his fingers. “Yes, yes, that’s what I’m meaning. If we do this, we’re still friends. It won’t mess us up.”

Nikolaj thinks he gets it. Patrik worries they won’t be friends anymore, that this could make things weird or something. Nikolaj might not get everything he wants from Patrik, but like hell he would let anything screw up their friendship. Nikolaj can handle this. He can have fun with Patrik and still be his friend. He can do this.

“We’ll be good,” Nikolaj says. “Promise.”

Patrik nods and that’s the end of the conversation. It probably wasn’t as long or as in depth as it should’ve been, but for now it’s good enough for Nikolaj because Patrik’s grinning at him happily. They’re going to do this.

Patrik leans in and his lips brush against Nikolaj’s, so light Nikolaj barely feels it. Then a kiss is pressed more firmly to his jaw, and another right below his ear. Oh, right. There was a specific to this bet. Nikolaj tilts his head, and Patrik moves light kisses down the column of his neck. His large hand grips Nikolaj’s waist and pulls him closer, slots them together so he can get a good angle. 

Patrik reaches up to tug at the loose collar of Nikolaj’s old shirt, pulls it away until he finds a spot he wants, and then practically latches his mouth right above Nikolaj’s collar bone. Heat blooms in Nikolaj’s stomach, in his groin, as Patrik slowly sucks at the spot.

Nikolaj gets hard. How can he not, not only with Patrik’s mouth on him, but his body pressed close, big hands holding him tight. And he’s continuously touching Nikolaj’s neck, which is something that’s always gotten to Nikolaj, making him shiver and sweat and want to come so fucking badly. Patrik doesn’t even know, and one hand grips the back of his neck to hold him in place, and it’s all he can do to not buck up his hips.

Nikolaj needs to touch—somewhere, anywhere, fingers bunching up in the back of Patrik’s hoodie.

Nikolaj groans when teeth lightly scrape over his sensitive skin. “Oh, fuck.”

“Okay?” Patrik goes to move away, but Nikolaj’s hand tightens and pulls him closer.

“Don’t fucking stop.”

Patrik chuckles, and goes back to marking Nikolaj’s neck. His other hand, the one not holding the back of his neck, drops down to the front of Nikolaj’s sweats, cupping his hard-on. “Okay?”

It wasn’t part of the bet but like fuck Nikolaj is going to say no.

“Please,” Nikolaj hoarsely whispers. He’s still sitting at the end of the bed, toes curling into the hotel carpet, and he has to plant one hand behind him on the bedcover so he doesn’t fall over. Patrik plasters himself even closer, rubbing his hand over Nikolaj’s hard-on more insistently while still sucking on his neck. 

“You are so good, Nik,” Patrick says between kisses to that one spot. Damn, it is going to be a dark bruise by the time he’s done. “So good for me.” And he keeps whispering these things into Nikolaj’s skin between kisses and sucks, about how good he is, how hot he is. It’s everything Nikolaj wants, needs, to hear. 

It isn’t long before Nikolaj is trembling, and he groans as he comes, and Patrik is finally kissing him on the mouth, kissing him hard, as he rides through his orgasm.

“Holy shit.” Nikolaj can’t help it, he melts down to the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore, and squeezes his eyes shut. He cracks them open when he hears breathless moans above him, and sees Patrik with his hand down the front of his own sweats, jerking off. Nikolaj reaches up and trails his fingertips over Patrik’s cheek, and Patrik comes.

“Holy shit,” Nikolaj repeats, a happy note to the words, when Patrik collapses onto the bed beside him. Patrik rolls onto his side, and reaches out to press two fingers to where he’d just spent God knows how long leaving a mark. Nikolaj hisses.

“Don’t let them see,” Patrik says suddenly.

“I—what?”

“Don’t let them see. When you go out tonight.” 

Nikolaj tries to tamp down the warring feelings inside. No one should see it, really. Too many questions. But. “They’ll end up seeing it in the locker room.”

“That’s okay.” Patrik leans over and presses a light kiss to it. A shiver runs through Nikolaj’s spine. “But tonight, it’s just mine.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Nikolaj says, just as breathless as when he came. Jesus, Patrik is really out to kill him with the bet tonight.

“Good.” Patrik rolls over and as he gets off the bed, slaps Nikolaj on the thigh. Nikolaj yelps and kicks out at him, but Patrik moves out of the way easily. “Now get up, lazy. You’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“I—what?” Nikolaj can’t get any other words together.

Patrik stares at him like he’s an idiot. “The whole point of the bet?” He grins smugly. “Me not going out with you and the guys?” He scoops up his phone and looks at the screen. “I think you have about ten minutes before they leave.”

Nikolaj stomach sinks but he tries to shake it off, because he promised everything would be fine. “Right.” He gets up and makes for the bathroom, to get cleaned up and change out of the sweats that have come drying in them now. 

Patrik stops him with a hand to his arm, and steps in close. “Sorry. It wasn’t the whole point. That was fun.” His eyes linger on Nikolaj’s neck. “But I’m definitely the winner here.”

Nikolaj feels more at ease. “I don’t really feel as though I lost either.”

Patrik smiles. “Good. We’re good?”

“We’re good,” Nikolaj says, and means it.

 

**

 

Nikolaj does go out, and he does hide the hickey, wearing the perfect sweater with just a high enough collar to cover the low spot of the bruise. He likes it, this little private thing between him and Patrik he doesn’t have to explain. None of the guys see it, so no one knows to chirp him about it.

That lasts for exactly one night. There is morning practice at the rink, after all. And that includes changing, and also having to go without a shirt.

“Fuck yeah, Nik! It was that girl, wasn’t it? The one flirting with you?” Adam grins at him and reaches out to press the very large and very dark hickey on Nikolaj’s neck.

Nikolaj swats his hand away. “Fuck off.”

“But no, seriously. It was, wasn’t it?” Jacob asks. “Totally trying to hit that.”

There indeed was a young woman, and she was beautiful, and Nikolaj liked talking to her. The guys must’ve missed when he gently let her down and she returned to her friends. 

“A guy never kisses and tells.” He sort of hates himself for saying this, a lot, but he doesn’t know what else to do. Admit the truth? Absolutely not. Besides, the saying goes for this situation anyway.

“Like hell they don’t. You know where you are, right?” 

“Oh, come on, leave him alone,” Mark says. “You know Nik never talks about it.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Adam asks. 

“I’m not an asshole,” Nikolaj chirps back lightly. That starts some hooting and hollering and debate and it’s mostly left alone.

He risks a glance over at Patrik, whose been silent this entire time. He’s tying up his own laces, but he has a self-satisfied smirk on his face. No one would notice it, since he does most of the time, but Nikolaj can tell the difference. He’s loving every awkward moment Nikolaj is having here.

Wheels comes into the locker room and good-naturedly tells everyone to knock it off, and then the coaching staff does and they all do for real. When they’ve gone out to the ice and split up for drills, Patrik skates up behind Nikolaj.

“I like knowing it’s mine. I like knowing it, and that they don’t.”

Nikolaj is going to fucking kill him, the smug bastard. 

“Not the time.”

Patrik hums under his breath. “We might just have to make another bet some other time, then.” He skates away before Nikolaj can say anything.

“Asshole,” Nikolaj mutters, but it sounds too fond.

 

**3.**

 

Nine games into the season and Nikolaj is not happy with how he’s been playing. None of them are particularly happy with themselves, he doesn’t think. They’re doing... okay. Not great, not awful. Just okay. Definitely not winning as much as they’d like. Not scoring as much as they’d like. Not playing Jets hockey as they’d like.

And Nikolaj hasn’t scored a single goal. 

He’s not the big goal scorer, he gets that. Patrik is. Mark is. Kyle Connor is. But he should be getting some goals by now. One, at the very least.

“It’s still early,” Wheels says to him after practice. They have to play Toronto that night, and it’s such a big deal it’s being broadcast on a popular American channel—the first time they’ve aired a Canadian team vs. Canadian team game. 

“I know. It’s just—” Nikolaj shrugs. He should be doing _more_. He should be better. All the team knows it. The coaching staff knows it too, given all the line juggling that’s been going on.

“You’ll find your feet. I know you will.” Wheels pats his shoulder and heads across the ice to where Patrik is still practicing shots.

Nikolaj knows Patrik is in the same boat as him, feeling the same way. He wishes there was something he could do to help, or encourage—something other than just improving on the ice, but really, that’s the biggest thing.

He wishes he could do something off the ice, too. Maybe even in a sexy bedroom way. But Patrik hasn’t brought it up since that one time they did, and Nikolaj hasn’t either. Everything feels... fine, normal, like maybe it hadn’t happened at all. 

That was the point, though. Just friends having fun. He wouldn’t mind it happening again, but it might be for the best if it doesn’t, since it didn’t mess things up.

He darts a look to where Wheels and Patrik stand on the ice, Patrik’s chin tucked down as he listens to Wheels, who stares at him intently. Patrik finally looks up and nods, and Wheels smiles, patting him on the shoulder at well.

Nikolaj wishes he had the easy confidence in himself, in the team, as their captain does.

After he leaves the ice and cools down, showers off and gets ready to go home for a pre-game nap, Patrik catches up to him on the way to the parkade. 

“Bet you’ll score tonight,” Patrik says casually.

Nikolaj snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“I’ll _bet_ you.”

Nikolaj’s feet stutter enough he almost trips over a small speed bump in the parking lot. Which is ridiculous because it’s probably the most hilly thing in all of southern Manitoba.

He keeps going toward his car, eyes glancing around. There’s no one else out here right now. 

“You want to bet I score a goal? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Of course it does,” Patrik says, falling into easy step beside him. “You think you won’t. But I know you’ll try.”

“Of course I will. I always do.” 

“And I think tonight is your night.”

Nikolaj stops at his car and turns to Patrik. “So why is this even a bet? I’d be trying to make myself lose.”

Patrik taps Nikolaj’s head through his, as the Canadians around here call it, toque. His winter hat. “It’s all in your head. I’m not betting against you, I’m betting for you. And you’ll try for that.”

“Still makes no fucking sense. If I score, shouldn’t I be the one rewarded?”

Patrik tilts his head side to side, as if considering. “Okay, if I win—”

“If I score, you mean—”

“Which means I win,” Patrik says. “I will reward you. But I’ll make you work for it.”

Now Nikolaj’s heart stutters for a second. “I—how?”

“Guess you’ll have to score and see, won’t you?”

“And what if I win the bet?”

“You mean, you don’t score? You really think that’s going to happen?”

Nikolaj hopes it doesn’t, for a plethora of reasons. Then again. If he wins the bet by not scoring (which is probably the most likely outcome, right?) he gets to collect his winning.

“Pity orgasm,” he says. “I still get one but you have to get me off.”

“Yeah, okay.” He taps Nikolaj’s toque one last time, and heads towards his own car. “Have a good nap. See you later.”

And, okay. Okay. If this was all it took to get up close and personal with Patrik again, Nikolaj should have brought up his failure a week ago.

 

**

 

Then again.

Nikolaj scores his first goal of the season that night.

 

**

 

They still lose, which sucks. Patrik is clearly unhappy, though he answers the media questions well enough.

When his eyes meet Nikolaj’s through the scrum, there’s a little spark there. He says something, Nikolaj can’t hear clearly, but he can read his name on Patrik’s lips. Sees the word ‘goal’ there.

And Nikolaj suddenly feels a lot better about it all.

 

**

 

“Back to your place?” Patrik says quietly once the press clears out, once most of the guys are focused on their own post-game routine. 

They have to be up at ass o’clock in the morning, and they’ll be gone from Winnipeg for two weeks, first for a couple away games, and then over to Finland for the Global Series.

Clearly Patrik doesn’t plan on waiting to collect on his bet.

Nikolaj nods. He doesn’t want to wait either.

 

**

 

Nikolaj barely beats Patrik back to his place. He’s just hanging his coat in the closet when there’s a knock on the door. He opens it and Patrik steps inside. Patrik hangs his overcoat, but leaves his suit jacket on, and loosens the tie around his neck a little.

“Uh, I guess we’ll go...” Nikolaj trails off. It’s late, it’s not like they have a lot of time, and is it too presumptuous to assume they’re going to his bedroom? Probably. 

“Come here.” Patrik hasn’t moved from the front entrance, standing patiently on the front mat with his hands in his pockets. His still wears his plain black knit hat, a constant when he’s away from the locker room, devoid of any Jets logos to draw attention. 

Nikolaj steps closer. And then closer. And then he’s just a couple inches in front of Patrik. Patrik doesn’t say anything, just crooks the corner of his mouth into a quick smile, then leans in and kisses Nikolaj.

It doesn’t feel like ‘just buddies’ to Nikolaj, but he doesn’t want to ruin it by trying to read into it. It’s soft and sensual and almost too much, but it feels right all the same.

They stand there, kissing and full-out making out, hands on each other’s hips. Nikolaj’s head is tilted up and Patrik leans down to meet his lips, but they fit together perfectly. Nikolaj rocks his hips against Patrik’s and they’re both getting hard.

“Hmmm.” Patrik hums under his breath as he pulls away from Nikolaj’s mouth, but he stays pressed against him. “It’s getting late.”

“I, uh.” Nikolaj’s brain is fried and the right English words aren’t coming to mind. He doesn’t want this to stop, but Patrik needs to get going soon. They have an early flight. Still. “You’re not going to make me wait, are you?”

Patrik laughs and shakes his head. He crowds Nikolaj against the nearest wall. “No, but we should move this along.” He presses his thigh between Nikolaj’s legs. “I did say you had to work for it.”

“What do you want—” Nikolaj cuts off with a moan. Patrik grabs his ass, hitching him up his thigh, and pushes him harder against the wall. He then takes his wrists and holds them down. Nikolaj is pinned there, at Patrik’s mercy.

“Work for it.” 

“How?”

Patrik doesn’t say anything, just leans in and kisses Nikolaj’s neck, sucking lightly. Nikolaj whimpers. Patrik presses his thigh against Nikolaj’s hard-on, and it clicks, what Patrik wants him to do. How he’s supposed to work for it.

“Shit. Are you serious?”

Patrik doesn’t deign Nikolaj with an answer, instead keeps kissing Nikolaj’s neck. It must be bright red from the heat coursing though Nikolaj, with how turned on he is even thinking about what Patrik is asking him to do. Telling him too.

Nikolaj is not going to say no.

He starts rocking his hips, shifting ever so slightly until he gets into the right position, optimizing the angle of rubbing his crotch against Patrik’s leg. Fuck, he’s humping him, really, and it feels fucking unbelievable.

It doesn’t take long for the heat to rise, for Nikolaj to feel hot and desperate.

“Mmm, so good.” Patrik’s mouth is right next to Nikolaj’s ear, and he’s whispering absolute filth to Nikolaj. “So good, riding my leg, working for it, like I said you would.” Nikolaj moans and his hips ratchet up the speed. He wants to come so bad, wants to be good for Patrik, wants to be good and be rewarded. He wants it all. “Come on, faster, Nik, do it faster.”

Patrik lets go of one of Nikolaj’s hands to bring his own up to the side of Nikolaj’s neck. His thumb brushes over the collar of Nikolaj’s dress shirt, and then moves across sweat-slick skin, over Nikolaj’s Adam’s apple. Nikolaj whimpers and goes weak in the knees but it’s not like he falls because he’s practically sitting on Patrik’s thick, strong thigh.

Nikolaj’s cheeks must be on fucking fire, but it’s so, so good. He buries his face against Patrik’s shoulder, bites the material of his suit jacket between his teeth. Patrik firmly holds the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his skin. With his other hand, he grabs Nikolaj’s ass, urging him to move faster. Nikolaj holds on tight, works his hips faster and faster. He cries out and comes in his shorts, his entire body shuddering against Patrik’s.

“So hot, you’re so hot,” Patrik murmurs.

Nikolaj gives a strangled, sex-dazed chuckle, and slumps back against the wall. He hears the clinking of a belt buckle, and cracks open his eyes. Patrik has one hand on the wall next to Nikolaj, and the other takes a hold of his own dick to jerk off, finally coming all over Nikolaj’s suit pants.

Nikolaj makes a face, though he’s not really pissed at all. “Did you have to all over me?”

“Whatever,” Patrik says, breathless. “You don’t need the suit for the trip, or you wouldn’t be wearing it now.”

Good point. But still.

“How is it,” Patrik continues, “I keep winning bets and you still haven’t touched my dick?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Nikolaj shrugs and grins. “You’re the one who makes your own terms.”

“Hmm.” Patrik nods and stands up, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’ll have to think on this.”

“Unless I win. Then it’ll just be my dick being touched anyway.”

Patrik pats Nikolaj’s head, and Nikolaj bats his hand away with a laugh. 

“You need to get home. Leaving on the big trip tomorrow.”

Patrik’s face softens. It always does whenever anyone brings up the Global Series. He gets to go home to Finland and show off. Nikolaj tries not to think about how busy Patrik will be, with friends and family and media. Some of Nikolaj’s family and friends are making their way to Finland too, so it’s not like he won’t be busy either. But still. There won’t be a lot of time for Nikolaj to hang out with Patrik, and that sucks.

Maybe Patrik senses that, gets it, because he kisses Nikolaj softly. Sweetly. But then he pulls away completely, suddenly, puts several feet between them. As if remembering that isn’t something they should be doing. Rubbing off on each other, fine, but maybe post-sex sweet kisses cross the line.

“Get a good sleep, okay?”

Nikolaj nods. “You too.”

Patrik pulls his coat on, shooting Nikolaj one more half-smile before walking out the door.

 

**4.**

 

The trip to Finland is as unbelievable as Nikolaj knew it would be. Not only for the team but for Patrik specifically. Getting to see friends and family, his good friend and fellow countryman Barkov. To play in front of his own country at the Hartwall Arena. It’s a lot, and Nikolaj understands. He has his own family and some friends that make the trip to Finland from Denmark, and to see them all during the season is amazing.

So, no, Nikolaj doesn’t get to see much of him, not as much as he’d like, other than with the team itinerary, surrounded by all the guys having the time of their life. They don’t share a room, they definitely don’t have any time to play video games or make any bets. It always sits there, in the back of Nikolaj’s mind, that it’s something he wants to happen again. But now isn’t the best time. 

 

**

 

Unless, of course, it is.

 

**

 

“Bet you can’t net a hat trick.” 

They’re in the middle of a game. Patrik has just scored his second goal, which is _awesome_. Seriously, the bashful grin on Patrik’s face as the Finland crowd jumped to their feet to cheer will be stuck in Nikolaj’s mind for a long time. It was just so—Nikolaj is so happy for him, he could burst. It makes him _want_ Patrik.

And say stupid things when they’re on the bench.

Patrik tilts his head a little bit and laughs. He’s not looking at Nikolaj, instead out at the ice as the lines change.

Nikolaj thinks, for a moment, maybe he pushed it too much. That the middle of the game is not the best time to bring up how much he wants to hook up with Patrik again, even in the form of a bet. 

There would be no hard feelings if Patrik brushed it off with a shake of his head and a grin, like he does so many other things. Nikolaj wouldn’t mind. He’d get called out on being inappropriate or unprofessional or whatever, and that’d be fine—

“Bet I can.”

Nikolaj grins when Patrik finally glances over at him.

“And if you don’t, you—” Nikolaj pauses for a moment, thinking it through. He really wants this for Patrik. It would be unbelievable. “You tie my laces for a week.”

It’s lame, he knows, and the look on Patrik’s face tells him he thinks that same. That’s fine. “So if you do? What do you want to collect?”

Patrik leans in. “You know that thing I mentioned last time? That hasn’t happened yet.”

He knows. He _wants_. Patrik says, “Yeah. That.”

He doesn’t put a word to it, because neither of them are fucking idiots enough to say, “You have to jerk me off” or “Blow me” or even “Just fucking touch my dick already” on the bench in the middle of the third period in Finland. Or anywhere, really, other than in private. 

But Nikolaj meets his eyes and nods. 

“But when we get back to Winnipeg,” Patrik says, looking back at the ice. “Too busy here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Nikolaj says. Makes sense. “It’s a bet.”

 

**

 

As the period ticks on, Nikolaj starts to think that he should have asked for something more fun for himself. But then Florida pulls their goalie, and Coach Maurice puts Patrik on the ice—because of course he does, Finland might have his head if he didn’t give Patrik the hat trick chance. 

And a chance he has.

And a hat trick he gets.

 

**

 

They finish their trip of a lifetime, and there’s no mention of the bet. There’s no mention of hooking up. Nikolaj scores in the second game, but it’s not a win, and he wishes it was.

Still, the trip was unbelievable for everyone, and they’re all in good spirits as they board to get back to North America for the rest of the season.

 

** 

 

He dreams on the plane. Of Patrik’s happy hat trick grin and his boisterous smile when Nikolaj had scored, and of soft kisses, and of strong fingers against Nikolaj’s neck.

He wakes with a start. He’s thankful for the blanket over his lap, and in the dim light of the cabin no one pays attention to him. But he’s shaken to the core about how much he _wants_. 

He looks across the aisle. Patrik sleeps, long legs stretched out and the little airplane blanket pulled up to his chin around his shoulders. His head slumps to the side and pale blond hair falls across his brow, and all Nikolaj wants is to reach over and push it back.

_Fuck_ , Nikolaj thinks. He tries to will himself to sleep, but the mantra is stuck in his head. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He promised. 

 

**

 

There’s still five days until their next game after they get home. They get right back to it after a day of shaking off the jet leg, and practice begins in full swing. Nikolaj doesn’t ignore Patrik, because that’s not buddies and he promised the thing they’re doing wouldn’t screw them up. It’s not Patrik’s fault Nikolaj went and got even more attached than he already had been. 

Nothing is mentioned of their bet before, during, or after practice. Nikolaj starts to hope that maybe, just maybe, Patrik forgot. As much as Nikolaj wants to hook up, it’s probably for the best they didn’t.

Then, of course, he gets a text message from Patrik that night. 

**[From: Patrik]**  
_You still owe me. Come over before meeting the guys tonight?_

There’s a plan to go out for dinner, some of the guys, at one of the great steakhouses in Winnipeg, but Nikolaj can’t say no. Won’t say no. As nervous and unsure as he is about this, maybe he just needs to get it out of his system this one time. Then they don’t have to worry about bets anymore. 

Nikolaj texts him back that he’s on his way shortly.

 

**

 

Nikolaj is let into Patrik’s building, and Patrik sends him a text to tell him the door is open but to lock up once he’s in. It’s so familiar it’s difficult to have any nerves. This is just Patrik. Just hanging out with Patrik like he has a hundred times in the last two years. Just buddies.

Just buddies hanging out with dicks involved. It’s fine.

It’s easy, natural, when Nikolaj comes in to Patrik’s apartment and takes off his winter coat. He locks the door behind him.

Patrik’s in sweats and a t-shirt and he’s sitting in his gamer’s chair, his favourite spot in his entire apartment. 

“You look good,” Patrik says, much to Nikolaj’s surprise. Well, not surprised that he looks good—he took a little too much care in picking out the dark jeans and nice long-sleeved shirt. He didn’t think Patrik would actually notice, let alone say anything.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Nikolaj ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck. When did he become such a loser? “So, should we, uh. I owe you,” he finishes lamely.

“You do.” Patrik spreads his legs and points at the ground in front of him. “Come kneel here.”

And, oh. 

Nikolaj doesn’t know whether to think that’s incredibly hot or incredibly predictable that Patrik wants his dick played with while sitting in his favourite gaming chair.

It’s both, and Nikolaj has no problem with doing as told. He kneels gracefully to the floor between Patrik’s legs and can’t help but lick his lips when his gaze drifts down to Patrik’s crotch.

“Knew you wanted this.”

Nikolaj snorts but he doesn’t protest. He wants to tell Patrik he could have just asked for it anytime, but he doesn’t want to take the fun out of it. Doesn’t want to make it awkward. Doesn’t want to expect too much.

Instead, without waiting for further instruction, he leans in and presses his face against Patrik’s right thigh, then noses up until his face is right in the V of his thighs, mouthing over his sweats. Nikolaj’s hair is too short to grab but Patrik gives it a good try anyway.

“I’m going to do this now.” It seems a stupid thing to say out loud, but when he looks up at Patrik, Patrik nods. 

“Yes. Do this for me.” He presses fingers to Nikolaj’s mouth and pushes them in. Patrik’s eyes go dark and he licks his lips as Nikolaj begins to suck lightly on them. “You’re so good, Nik.”

Nikolaj’s eyes flutter shut. He’ll never get enough of Patrik telling him how good he is.

“So good for me, Nik.”

And Patrik knows it, too.

Nikolaj doesn’t waste anymore time, hands tugging at the band of Patrik’s sweats. He helpfully lifts his hips so Nikolaj can pull them down, just a little, just enough that his half hard dick and balls are exposed. Nikolaj presses his nose back in, inhaling the musky scent, the light hairs there neatly trimmed. 

He’s thought about having Patrik’s dick in his mouth a lot, fuelling so many fantasies. This is actually happening, and like hell Nikolaj is waiting any longer.

But just because he wants it so bad doesn’t mean he’s going to rush it. He licks and sucks the shaft of Patrik’s cock, kissing and laving his tongue up and down, bringing him to full hardness. Finally, he takes Patrik into his mouth, just the tip, and looks up at Patrik from underneath his eyelashes. It elicits a soft moan, and Patrik’s hand moves solidly to the back of Nikolaj’s neck. 

A shudder ripples all through Nikolaj. Patrik’s hand tightens, a little, and it makes Nikolaj think of things he should ask for. Things are that too much. Instead, he lets Patrik’s cock slip from his mouth. “Don’t be pushy,” he teases, trying to cover up the tension thrumming through him. 

Patrik smirks lazily, as if he’s not hard and leaking in front of Nikolaj’s face. “Like you mind.”

He’s not wrong. And he squeezes the back of Nikolaj’s neck to prove the point. Nikolaj swallows hard, and redirects it back to Patrik. “What do you like? What do you want?” Patrik’s eyebrows inch up. “I mean, you won the bet, right? So. Tell me.”

It’s now that Patrik’s cheeks flush, as he tilts his head to the side considering. His voice is surprisingly soft when he speaks. “Do what you do,” he says. “I just want to watch.”

That? Nikolaj has no problem with.

He goes to fucking town. He pulls out all his best tricks—he doesn’t know if this is going to be the only time he gets to do this or not, so he gives the fucking blowjob of his life. Knelt between Patrik’s legs, hands fondling his balls, holding the base of Patrik’s cock. It’s sloppy and messing, Nikolaj’s head bobbing up and down. But, fuck, it’s making him hard too. He could probably come in his pants just from slowly taking Patrik apart.

Patrik probably wouldn’t mind. He seems to have a thing for that. 

Patrik isn’t loud. Nikolaj isn’t surprised. But he’s obviously affected, feeling it, loving it. His hips shift, rocking minutely, as if trying not to completely let go but unable to stay completely still. One hand remains firmly on Nikolaj’s neck, thumb brushing the spot where a hickey used to live. When Nikolaj looks up again, he watches as Patrik’s other hand moves beneath the t-shirt he still wears. But he’s watching Nikolaj as intently as he promised, and when he sees Nikolaj watching him back, he brings that hand down to cup Nikolaj’s face, thumb pressing along the side of his cock where it enters Nikolaj’s mouth. 

“Nik, so good.” Patrik’s voice cracks. “So fucking good.”

Nikolaj closes his eyes, just feels the weight of Patrik’s dick, tastes the salty pre-come leaking against his tongue. 

He pulls off completely. “You can come on my face, if you want,” Nikolaj says, voice sex rough. 

Patrik groans, probably the loudest he’s been all night. He reaches down and grabs his own cock, starting to jerk off. Nikolaj had planned on doing that for him, but he has no problem watching Patrik, murmuring little encouragements, about how hot that is, how much he wants to see Patrik come. Right as he does, Nikolaj closes his eyes and opens his mouth, feeling it splash across his cheeks, get caught in his eyelashes, land against his lips. He licks it, tasting.

Nikolaj is so fucking hard right now, filled with the smell and taste and everything that is Patrik. He fumbles at the belt on his jeans, unbuckling it and popping open the button and fly. He’s about to shove his hand into his briefs when Patrik says, “I can,” and strong hands tug him up under his armpits.

He scrambles onto the chair, straddling Patrik’s hips, and there’s not a lot of room but they make it work. Patrik pulls Nikolaj into a kiss, nearly knocking him off balance, so Nikolaj grabs the chairback on either side of Patrik’s head. The angle is awkward, but Patrik takes a hold of Nikolaj’s dick and jerks him off. His lips wander away from Nikolaj’s mouth and he starts licking his own come off Nikolaj’s face.

Nikolaj’s hands tighten on the chair and his hips buck. He comes between them, spilling all over Patrik’s hand.

Patrik lifts his hand to his mouth, eyes locked with Nikolaj’s, and starts licking the come off his fingers.

“Jesus.” If Nikolaj could come again so soon, he would. Patrik is fucking _filthy_ , and this isn’t getting it out of Nikolaj’s system. If anything, it’s going to prolong all the many, many fantasies he has.

“Okay.” Patrik taps Nikolaj on the ass. “Get off my chair before you break it.”

“Before _we_ break it,” Nikolaj mumbles. But he gets to unsteady feet. He winces as he looks down—there’s come drying on the collar of his shirt, and on the crotch of his jeans.

Patrik follows him up off the chair and puts his hands on Nikolaj’s hips. Nikolaj is so surprised he lets Patrik crowd him into the wall, and welcomes the kisses Patrik pecks against his mouth before opening up to deepen it. He could stay here all night; he could stay here forever, if Patrik let him. But Patrik is the one who, somewhat reluctantly, backs away.

“You’re a mess.”

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says. Patrik makes him like that, in too many different ways. “Guess I am.”

“You can use my bathroom to get washed up before you go out.”

Nikolaj blinks at him. “I—wait, aren’t you coming?”

“Just did.” Patrik smirks.

Nikolaj rolls his eyes, but his stomach sinks. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

Patrik shakes his head, and avoids meeting Nikolaj’s eyes. “Nah, I’m not going to go out tonight.”

That’s not completely unexpected of Patrik. Still, Nikolaj gets the feeling something is off. “Okay, but—we’re okay, right?”

Patrik glances up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“You, and me. And—” Nikolaj waves a hand between them “—this. Thing.”

“We’re still buddies, right?”

“Yes, yes,” Nikolaj says right away, ignoring the sting. He might want more, and clearly Patrik doesn’t, but he won’t let them not be friends. “We’re good. I mean. We’re good, right? Everything…” He grasps for a way to say it. “Is normal.”

Patrik pauses for a moment, and Nikolaj can’t put a read on it, but then Patrik nods. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

For the first time in as long as Nikolaj can remember, there’s an awkward air between them. Nikolaj blames himself—he promised, and he unintentionally broke his promise. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Nikolaj says.

Patrik nods, and he’s reaching for a game controller before Nikolaj even leaves the living room. Nikolaj stifles a sigh and lets himself out, and vows to himself to make things right. 

He goes home to change. Cleaning up this mess isn’t a quick fix.

 

**5.**

 

Once the team gets playing again after their short break, they try to get their record on track. They haven’t had a bad season, not at all. But they all know they can do better.

And so does everyone else. Like. _Everyone_. The coaching staff, management, the fans, other teams, the Winnipeg press, every single hockey pundit across the nation that spouts an opinion, to which there are many.

If any of them have to hear another damn thing about Patrik’s 5-on-5 scoring—or lack thereof—there’s probably going to be an incident or two. From Patrik himself, for starters, but the rest of the team doesn’t like hearing how he’s being shit on either.

They have an excellent homestand—the goals don’t exactly flow, but they get the points they need, so that’s okay. They settle back into the game, back into the city, back into a normal routine.

That goes not only for the team, but for Nikolaj and Patrik too. Normal, right? That’s what Nikolaj said, after all.

“Hey. You and Patrik okay?” 

Nikolaj looks up at Wheels in surprise. “What? Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Blake tilts his head to the side. He shrugs. Nikolaj is playing up on a line with Wheeler and Scheifs now. They both tend to be guys in tune with their line mates; especially each other, what with the off-season training they do together, and their friendship, but they keep an eye on whoever is put on their other wing. The Captain tries to pay attention to everyone, of course, but there must be something about Nikolaj that’s making him bring this up.

“It’s weird, sometimes, when you’re split up from a line you used to be on,” Blake says. “And you two are close to begin with, so.”

Nikolaj blinks at him. “We’re fine. Really.”

They both glance across the room, where Patrik has his head inclined to listen to Kyle. His new liney.

Nikolaj does not feel jealous. There is nothing to feel jealous about. Not over a friendship, or anything else. 

He does feel, maybe, just a little sad.

“You’re sure?” Blake asks.

Suddenly, Nikolaj wants to tell him. Wants to tell _someone_ about the mess he got himself in—friends with benefits, but oops, Nikolaj is an idiot that fell for his friend with the benefits. In truth, he had way before they started doing anything, but he let it get too far.

And he can’t stop thinking about new ways to bet, to try to get Patrik to look at him, touch him, like he did in those few private moments they’ve had.

Nikolaj can’t tell Blake any of this. He’s fine with talking about himself with Blake—Blake’s the one guy on the team he actually has, other than the non-talks he and Patrik have had—but Nikolaj can’t say anything about Patrik. Or what they’ve been doing. It’s not his place.

“I’m fine, Wheels,” he says instead. He flashes a quick smile, a genuine one. “Thanks. But really. We’re good. I’m good. He’s—” Nikolaj pauses. “He wants to score more.”

Blake laughs. “He always wants to score more. He’ll get there.”

“He will,” Nikolaj agrees.

 

** 

 

And he does.

 

**

 

They leave for their next road trip, and no one expects it to turn out the way it does.

Patrik just keeps scoring. He gets a hat trick in Vancouver, and they win the game. They lose in Calgary after an embarrassing first period, though Patrik gets two of their three goals. Then they both score against Minnesota, which earns Nikolaj a rewarding, “Good job, Fly” that makes him feel like he’s received the moon during the second intermission. Then the Wild score four in the third, and they lose.

Patrik is incredibly unhappy after that game. He barely says two words to Nikolaj on the way back to the hotel, and Nikolaj doesn’t press him.

“It’ll be better tomorrow,” he offers after they get off the elevator to their rooms. 

“Sure,” Patrik says shortly. “Hey, do you want to—”

He trails off. Nikolaj’s active imagination fills in the question – “Want to make a bet?” “Want to go back to your room?” “Want to be boyfriends?”

None of those questions come out of Patrik’s mouth, though.

Patrik shakes his head. “Never mind. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure,” Nikolaj says, and tries not to be too disappointed. Tries not to be too worried he’s fucked everything up.

 

**

 

Jesus fuck. They’re playing in St. Louis, and Patrik scores four goals by the end of the second period.

The guys on the team are thrilled for him. Nikolaj is so proud he could burst with it. He laughs, just pure joy bubbling out of him, as they walk down the tunnel to head back to the bench for the third period.

Offhand, he says, “Bet you can’t get five.” 

Patrik’s gaze is intense, the line of his mouth amused. “I’ll take that bet.”

Nikolaj bursts out laughing. “I didn’t mean—” He really didn’t. It was just a joke, a slip of phrase. 

“What do you want if I lose?” Patrik says.

Patrik is a big winner tonight—the whole team is—but Nikolaj shakes his head and laughs. Why not? If Patrik is in the mood for this after his big night, Nikolaj is game. Nikolaj should know better by now, but he’s riding the adrenaline rush of Patrik’s amazement. 

He mimes, very subtle, pushing his tongue against his cheek. He doesn’t even use the hand gesture, but the point gets across. Man, he wants Patrik to blow him. Patrik nods in agreement. That’s what Nikolaj gets if Patrik loses this bet; if Patrik doesn’t score any more goals that night.

“And you?” They’re at the bench, and Nikolaj steps onto the ice. He’s on the starting line up, and they’ll take the faceoff to open the period. Patrik sits on the bench, but Nikolaj leans over the boards. “And you?” he asks again. “If you do get it?” He’s not just going to leave this so-called bet open ended like that.

His gloved fingers beckon Nikolaj so he leaves over the sideboards, and Patrik leans in from the bench. He says quietly into Nikolaj’s ear, only loud enough for Nikolaj to hear, “I get your ass.”

Nikolaj’s heart stops. Jesus. This really isn’t the time. But that doesn’t stop him from nodding.

 

** 

 

Patrik gets his fifth goal. Of fucking course.

 

**

 

They fly out of St. Louis that night to head back to Winnipeg. Nothing happens, other than the entire team is in a fantastic mood, all for Patrik. Nikolaj can’t stop grinning, he’s so happy for his friend.

Friend with benefits. More specifically, friend with sex-bet-benefits. 

“I’ll message you tomorrow,” Patrik says after they deplane. It’s so late that tomorrow is actually today, but Nikolaj gets it. They have the day off, so they just want to go home and sleep in. Of course he and Patrik weren’t going to hook up that night.

Plenty of time to celebrate on their day off.

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says. “Text me.”

He goes home and happily crawls into his own bed, the elation of the game finally wearing off and the exhaustion of the road trip sinking deep into his bones. He sleeps late into the morning, finally getting up and lazily drinking coffee, finding a football game from Europe to stream. 

Later in the afternoon, he gets a message from Patrik.

**[From: Patrik]**  
_Come over?_  
_be washed_  
_wear a jockstrap_

Nikolaj stares at his phone, mouth suddenly dry and heart pounding an ecstatic beat. This is—that’s not a request he was expecting.

**[To: Patrik]**  
_that’s specific_

The reply is instant.

**[From: Patrik]**  
_I got 5 goals_

Nikolaj laughs, and laughs harder when the next text comes in.

**[From: Patrik]**  
_bring ice cream_

Now Nikolaj rolls his eyes, fondly, and is glad no one could see this exchange. Because he’s about to do exactly as Patrik is telling him, and honestly, it has nothing to do with five goals.

He sends back to a thumbs-up emoji, and goes to get himself ready. For Patrik.

 

**

 

Nikolaj lets himself into Patrik’s apartment, locking the door behind him. He slips off his shoes, and hangs his jacket. 

“Hey,” he calls out. He doesn’t find Patrik right away, instead going into the kitchen and putting the carton of Smarties ice cream into the freezer. He knows it’s a hat trick tradition now.

“Hi.”

Nikolaj closes the freezer door and turns to see Patrik leaning casually against the doorframe. They’re dressed similarly, in loose sweats and hoodies. Comfortable clothes to relax in. Comfortable clothes that easily come off.

“So.” Nikolaj had been feeling a little nervous on the way over, but with the way Patrik looks at him, like he could devour him whole, that quickly flits away. This is all about having some fun. He doesn’t have to have any other expectations. Not right now.

“So.” Patrik smirks at him. “Five goals.”

Nikolaj laughs and shakes his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” 

Patrik shrugs lazily. Nikolaj knows he’s not going to make it a big deal in the media, or even amongst most of the team, but he won’t let Nikolaj forget about it. At least, not until he gets his winnings. 

“What’s the game plan, here?” Nikolaj asks. “Bedroom?”

Patrik nods and tilts his head, indicating back into the apartment. “Yeah. Come on.”

Nikolaj follows him. He’s not been in here a lot, but it looks suspiciously cleaner than any time Nikolaj poked his head in to take a look. The bed is made and the floor clear of any clothes.

“How do you want me?” Nikolaj asks. He unzips his hoodie, and he hadn’t bothered with a shirt underneath, revealing his bare chest instead.

Patrik’s cheeks flush as he licks his lips. He doesn’t say anything but reaches out, hand on Nikolaj’s abdomen before slipping it under the hoodie to the small of Nikolaj’s back. He pulls him in close and kisses him hard, leaving Nikolaj breathless. They kiss and kiss and Nikolaj could stay like this all afternoon, if it’s what Patrik wanted. But Patrik’s hand dips into his sweats, past the waistband of the jockstrap, and grips the bare cheek of Nikolaj’s ass.

Patrik groans. “You wore it?” He says it as if he didn’t believe Nikolaj actually would.

Nikolaj laughs against his mouth. “Is this a thing for you?”

Patrik shrugs and grins, and moves his mouth down to Nikolaj’s neck. He nips a little, and Nikolaj gasps, bucking his hips. 

“Is this a thing for you?” Patrik chirps back.

“Fuck off.” Nikolaj laughs again and tilts his head back, giving Patrik better access.

Patrik sucks lightly and Nikolaj shudders. God, if he does this too much, he’s going to come in his sweats. Again. He’s pretty sure that’s a thing for Patrik too.

“Did you wash?” Patrik asks him, squeezing his ass again.

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says breathlessly. “Showered right before I came over.”

“Good. Can I eat you out?”

Holy fuck. The air escapes Nikolaj’s lungs. “You want?”

“I want.” Patrik pulls back and pushes the hoodie off Nikolaj’s shoulders. He starts tugging at the band of Nikolaj’s pants. “I wouldn’t have bet that if I hadn’t wanted.”

“Okay, okay.” Nikolaj swats Patrik’s hands away, and pushes his sweats down, stepping out of them. He thumbs at the strap of the jock but Patrik shakes his head.

“That stays on.”

“Definitely a thing.”

Patrik grins and takes a slow walk around Nikolaj, pinching his ass cheek. Nikolaj squawks and jumps out of reach but Patrik is fast, laughing as he crowds against Nikolaj, backing him towards the bed, causing Nikolaj to tumble onto it. It’s fun, and easy, like everything else between them.

Patrik leans over him to press another hard kiss to his lips, and a softer one to his neck, and then with a large hand, pushes on his thigh. “Over.” Nikolaj obliges with no problem at all, rolling and shifting so he’s belly down. Even with wearing a jock, he suddenly feels so exposed. The white strap goes around his waist, and there’s straps around the top of his thighs, but his ass cheeks are bare. They’ve been in various stages of undress—hell, Patrik’s seen him naked in the locker room and showers before—but this is _different_.

“So hot.” Patrik kneels on the bed behind him, and palms his ass. The playfulness of minutes before is gone, and there’s an edge of something more, something exciting and new.

“Have you done this much?” Nikolaj asks, glancing back over his shoulder.

Patrik meets his eyes, and then shakes his head. “I’ve wanted to, but never had the chance.” He leans down and nips at the strap underneath Nikolaj’s ass. “It’s okay?”

Nikolaj nods. “Yeah, yeah, it’s—I like it. A lot.”

“Great, no pressure then.”

“You’ll be fine.” Nikolaj reaches for a pillow and puts it under his hips. “Just go for it.” 

And go for it he does. He’s a little tentative at first, nosing the curve of Nikolaj’s ass before parting his cheeks and licking on long strip between them, tongue hot and wet over his hole. Nikolaj groans, forehead dropping to the mattress, and tries to stay still as Patrik does exactly as he said he would and eats him out. Patrik licks and kisses and sucks, making Nikolaj wet and sloppy. It gets to the point where Nikolaj breaks out in a sweat, flushed from head to feet, his toes curling. He’s hard and leaking, cock still trapped in the jock. 

He wants some relief, some pressure, he wants to get off. The one time he tries to stick his hand underneath himself, hoping to start jerking off, Patrik slaps his hand away.

“Not yet.” 

“Please,” Nikolaj whimpers, though he pulls his hand away.

“Not yet.” Then Patrik dives right back in, going at it full steam. Nikolaj gasps and shivers, and he can’t help it, he starts rocking his hips. He’s practically humping the pillow, dick chaffing within the jock, too much and not enough and almost perfect.

“You look so good in this.” Patrik snaps one of the leg bands on the jock, and Nikolaj’s entire body jerks with the delicious sting.

“Can we take it off?” Nikolaj pleads. “Please, I just need—”

“Tell me what you need,” Patrik says, his voice too teasing. He kisses Nikolaj’s hole once, and then his ass cheek, and the small of his back. His fingers dig into Nikolaj’s hips, pulling him up so he’s on his knees, unable to rub against the pillow any longer.

“Fuck you,” Nikolaj gasps. “Please.”

“Tell me.”

“What do you think, you asshole?” Nikolaj says, but he’s laughing. He can’t give in that easy.

Patrik just hums, and moves up so he’s draped over Nikolaj’s back. Fuck, he’s still in his hoodie and sweats.

“Why are you still dressed?” Nikolaj wiggles around. The material feels sensitive against his bare skin, sensitive and fantastic, and he wants to come. At the same time, he doesn’t, because he could ride this adrenaline forever.

“Too distracted to worry about.” Patrik reaches around and cups Nikolaj through the jock. Nikolaj groans and bucks his hips, and lets himself be easily moved when Patrik repositions them. He pulls Nikolaj up and back so they’re on their knees, Nikolaj’s back against Patrik’s chest, the hoodie zipper cold against his spine. He’s in Patrik’s lap, could be sitting on his dick if they were actually fucking. Instead, he just feels Patrik’s hard cock covered by the soft material of his sweats pressed up against Nikolaj’s bare ass.

One of Patrik’s hands inches up Nikolaj’s chest, fingers spread wide, until they’re at the base of his throat. Nikolaj inhales sharply.

“Okay?” Patrik says into Nikolaj’s ear, and kisses the skin right behind it. Nikolaj nods frantically. Patrik’s fingers rest against Nikolaj’s neck, and he squeezes ever so lightly. Nikolaj nearly comes in his jock.

“Definitely a thing,” Patrik says. “We’ll have to explore that some other time.” Nikolaj nods again, unable to put into words exactly what he wants, how far he wants it. He’ll take what he gets for now.

Patrik’s other hand pushes down the front of the jock, releasing Nikolaj’s cock. He jerks Nikolaj off, his hand fast and sure, and Nikolaj leans back against his chest. Nikolaj whimpers and shivers and it’s perfect. Everything is fucking perfect and feels so good. He doesn’t know why, he’s not the one who won the bet, but he definitely doesn’t feel like a loser here. 

Nikolaj leans his head back against Patrik’s shoulder, and Patrik bites down gently at the base of Nikolaj’s neck. Nikolaj cries out and comes, trembling in Patrik’s arms while he strokes him through it. He goes limp against Patrik’s chest, grinning at the ceiling, but goes easily as Patrik lowers him carefully back to the bed.

“Holy shit,” Nikolaj says into the bedcover. Patrik chuckles, presses a kiss between his shoulder blades, and gets off the bed. Nikolaj moans in protest, but Patrik shushes him and says he’ll be right back. He can hear the water running in the adjoining bathroom, and the gurgling of mouthwash before he spits into the sink.

Fine. If it means Nikolaj gets minty fresh kisses, he won’t actually complain about Patrik’s short absence.

Patrik returns to the bedroom, and does give Nikolaj a quick, minty kiss, but goes to the headboard of the bed, piling his pillows against it, and sits against them. Nikolaj looks up and, much to his dismay, Patrik is still fully dressed. He is, however, tenting out the front of his grey sweatpants.

Patrik pats the bed between his legs.

“Was a blowjob part of this bet?”

“Yes,” Patrik says with a smirk.

Nikolaj snorts. “Not for _you_.”

“Five goals.”

“Oh my God.” Nikolaj pushes himself up. He tucks his soft dick back into the jock, and Patrik’s eyes watch keenly. _Such_ a thing. “I don’t want to hear about it after today. Not once.”

“It’ll be the talk of the town for a while.”

That… is probably very true. “I mean from you.”

Patrik shrugs noncommittally, and pats the bed between his legs again.

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?” Patrik shakes his head. He does stick his hand in the front of his sweats. “Can I get dressed then?” Patrik shakes his head more firmly.

Nikolaj huffs dramatically, but doesn’t mind much. Or at all, actually, not with the way Patrik looks at him. It’s kind of hot, giving up a bit of control, in being naked and on display for Patrik’s appreciation. Not that he would mind seeing Patrik naked too, feeling their skin against skin, but this has a fun edge to it. One that Patrik clearly enjoys, and that’s enough for Nikolaj to go along with.

He settles between Patrik’s legs and gets his pants down enough to blow him, still loving the way he tastes and feels in his mouth. The way he sounds when he comes, his voice a little more high-pitched when he says Nikolaj’s name, telling him how good he is. It’s as heady and intoxicating as the first time they did this. That hasn’t changed one bit.

Nikolaj could get used to this. He _is_ used to it, and it hits him, full force, that he… want this. Always. Just always wants Patrik. And wants Patrik to know.

Maybe fixing it means just telling Patrik exactly what he wants. And if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn’t, they’ll work through it. 

He leans his head against Patrik’s thigh, and Patrik runs his fingers lightly through Nikolaj’s short hair. It’s nice, and calm, and helps Nikolaj sort the words into English in his head. He about to decide if right now is the right time or not to say anything, when Patrik jostles his leg. 

Nikolaj lifts his head and Patrik carefully slides out from underneath him. 

“Come on,” Patrik says after he’s tucked himself back into his pants and straightened himself out. “Ice cream time.”

Nikolaj laughs, rolling over onto his back. Patrik’s eyes dart over his body once, then he picks up Nikolaj’s sweats and reluctantly throws them over. “Do we have to right now?”

Patrik nods. “Hat trick tradition.”

Nikolaj sighs and gets off the bed, pulling on his sweats. He leaves them sitting low, so the band of the jock still shows. He approaches Patrik, whose eyes linger on the waistband of his sweats, and clearly surprises him when Nikolaj pushes up onto his toes to softly kiss Patrik. Patrik gets with the program fast, and his hands hold Nikolaj’s hips steadily, kissing him back ever so sweetly again.

“Okay,” Nikolaj says. “Let’s get your ice cream.”

Patrik grins happily at him.

Nikolaj will talk to him later, when there’s not any goals or bets or distracting jockstraps involved. 

 

**+1**

 

It’s not like Nikolaj is actively avoiding Patrik, and he doesn’t think Patrik is actively avoiding him either, but. They’re doing a good job of ignoring what’s right in front of them. It’s like they’re dancing around it, knowing they need to talk, but not finding the right time.

The Penguins are in town and after Patrik’s big game he’s held off the scoreboard. And the Jets lose. Double whammy right there, and Patrik’s in a mood. He doesn’t seek out Nikolaj and Nikolaj lets him stew in peace.

Besides, Nikolaj has some fundraising in the community to participate in. Once again for cancer awareness appreciation night he gets the ribbon shaved into the side of his head, along with the NHL logo on the back. But he chats with fans and takes pictures with kids, and smiles happily to the young guy who gets it shaved into the side of his head too.

The game for their appreciation night is against the Hawks. When Nikolaj is in the locker room getting ready, Patrik walks past him. He glances up and smiles. 

“Looking good, Nik,” Patrik says, and taps the side of Nikolaj’s head lightly. It’s their first real interaction in what feels like forever, but Patrik’s smile is genuine and Nikolaj is at ease.

He’s feeling it during warm up. His feet move easily under him, and he glides over the ice like it’s nothing. He and Patrik keep to their usual warm up routine—staying on the ice until nearly the end. The only other player out there is Scheifs, doing his own thing, and always the last one off. But Nikolaj passes the puck to Patrik so he can shoot it in, and they’re smiling, relaxed. Nikolaj leaves the warm up as if walking on clouds, content in knowing Patrik, then Mark, is right behind him, everyone focused the task ahead. He feels great.

The game is even better.

He’s flying on the ice, living up to his nickname, and the Hawks can’t keep up with him. He scores in the first, and in the second, and it’s the absolute best.

They’re heading out for the third period and Patrik’s behind Nikolaj in the tunnel. He leans in close. “Bet you’ll get a hat trick.”

Nikolaj turns to glance at him over his shoulder. “Not taking this bet, because fucking right I am.”

A surprised laugh escapes Patrik, and then it seems to hit him that Nikolaj won’t make a bet with him. His eyebrows furrow and he frowns, but he nods. “You will do it.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want Patrik. He just doesn’t want him like _this_ , hanging on the thread of a possible goal, something he’ll strive for but, really, it’s out of his control. 

Nikolaj smiles brightly. “I will. And then we’ll talk.”

Patrik’s face loosens, less tense, and he nods. “Go get them.”

Then Patrik scores a goal and Nikolaj rolls his eyes. Of course he fucking does, but Nikolaj is happy for it. He still feels like he’s flying, and when he intercepts the Hawks pass and takes off down the ice, all on his own, he knows it. He shoots and the goal light goes off.

He fucking got a hat trick.

The Winnipeg fans go wild, and the team is ecstatic. Maybe he and Patrik are in a weird place right now, some sort of limbo, but Patrik doesn’t contain his smile for Nikolaj.

“Told you,” Nikolaj says when they end up on the bench next to each other.

Patrik only smiles. “Like I didn’t know it.”

They win the game, and they’re on a plane soon after, heading out to the east coast for their New Jersey/New York road trip. They sit together on the plane, but it’s late and they don’t talk. It’s so quiet and peaceful that any conversation would be easily overheard anyway, if someone was awake, so it’s not the place. 

They’ll get there. Nikolaj will make sure of it.

 

**

 

The next afternoon, Nikolaj gets a text from Patrik while he’s getting ready. Some of the guys are going out a bit later for dinner. Nikolaj plans to join them, but he isn’t sure if Patrik is.

**[From: Patrik]**  
_can I come to your room_

**[To: Patrik:]**  
_going out with the guys in a while  
you coming?_

**[From: Patrik]**  
_can I come over first_

It’s a non-answer but Nikolaj tells him sure, come on over for a bit before they go out. Patrik shows up two minutes later, already dressed like he’s actually considering leaving the hotel, carrying a plastic bag.

“What’s this?” Nikolaj asks when Patrik holds it out. He takes it and looks inside and laughs.

It’s a small tub of ice cream with two plastic spoons.

“You got a hat trick last night.” Patrik grins at him. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s your tradition,” Nikolaj says, smiling so hard his face hurts. He’s touched that Patrik did this for him. He pulls out the ice cream and reads the label. “M&Ms?”

Patrik shrugs. “They don’t have chocolate Smarties here. Just in Canada. Closest I could find.” 

“I wonder if you just insulted an entire nation. Maybe two. Canadians and Americans with their weird rivalries.” 

“Yes, because there’s none of those in Europe.”

Nikolaj laughs and pulls out the spoons and gives one to Patrik. They sit on the edge of Nikolaj’s hotel bed and take off the lid. They have a couple spoonfuls each, sitting in companionable silence, when Nikolaj decides this is when he needs to bring it up. Bring _them_ up.

“Listen. About not taking the bet—”

“It’s okay,” Patrik says immediately. Like he was waiting for them to discuss this. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do that with me anymore. I don’t want to—” He stares down at his spoon and shrugs. “Make you do anything you don’t want.”

“You never have,” Nikolaj reassures him. “It’s not about that. I liked what we did. Believe me. It was—fun. Great. We’re good, there.”

Patrik nods. “But you don’t want to anymore. That’s okay.”

“Of course I _want_ to.” Patrik looks up at Nikolaj, unsure and confused and Nikolaj wants to kiss him. Rarely does Patrik look like this, like he’s not one hundred percent confident in everything. Even if it’s a cover-up, he doesn't let it show. But Nikolaj sees it now, and he doesn’t want to be the reason for it.

“You do? But you didn’t—”

“I don’t want to bet you for it. Or—” Nikolaj tilts his head side to side “—well, it _is_ fun, so I won’t say no to that, actually. But I want to make clear to you that it’s not only betting. I want to do that kind of stuff with you anytime we want.”

“More—” Patrik pauses, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “What did we call it?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Yes. That. That’s what we agreed, right? We weren’t going to mess up our friendship. Did the betting do that?”

Nikolaj shakes his head. And then takes in a shaky breath. “Listen. I don’t want—okay, so we’re friends, right?” Patrik nods. “Good friends. And I like that about us. But—I like you. A lot. More than just friends.” Patrik meets Nikolaj’s eyes. Nikolaj doesn’t know how to read them, so he just shrugs helplessly. “If we can’t be more than just friends, then... I want us to be just friends. I think the whole—” Nikolaj waves his hand between them.

“Touching each other’s dicks?” Patrik supplies. He’s smiling, though. That’s got to be a good sign.

Nikolaj laughs. “Yes, that. And everything else we did.” He drops the smile and tries to be more serious. “If that is going to mess up our friendship, and you don’t want to be more, then we should stop it. I—” Nikolaj takes a second to try to find the right way to explain, the right words for Patrik. “It’s too hard to separate for me. But if you don’t want to, I promise, it’s okay. I know—I know, for you, it was to hook up. With a guy. A just friends thing.”

Patrik laughs.

The fucker laughs.

“Why are you laughing at me? I’m trying to be serious!”

Patrik shakes his head and quickly covers up the laughter, it fading away to the half-smirk he wears on his face so frequently. “It’s not that—why do you think I bet you? After that first time? And picked what I did.”

Nikolaj shrugs. “I don’t know. To have fun!”

“Yes. But to have fun with _you_. Because it’s _you_.” Patrik shrugs again, and takes a spoonful of ice cream. 

“Wait. You bet me because you wanted to fool around with me?”

“Yes.”

“Because—you wanted fun.”

“Yes.”

“Okay...” Nikolaj trails off. He might be missing something here, but he’s suddenly too nervous to fill it in, in case he’s wrong.

“Because I like you,” Patrik says simply. “I knew you liked guys, but you never talked about it. I thought if maybe I could show you that being with me is... good, fun, you would want to be with me more. And you bet me too, so I thought maybe it worked. But then because of last night, I thought maybe it actually didn’t.”

“You’re the one who first brought up the friends with benefits thing!”

Patrik pushes a lock of his blond hair off his forehead. He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, somewhat sheepish. “I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you. It was an out, in case you didn’t end up liking me as more. I thought you were using it last night.”

Nikolaj stares at him, spoon dangling from his fingers and dripping ice cream to the floor. Then he laughs incredulously.

Patrik rolls his eyes. “Now you’re laughing at me.”

“Because you’re a idiot,” Nikolaj says fondly. “I’ve liked you for a long time. Long before we started betting.”

Surprise flickers across Patrik’s face. “You did?”

Nikolaj mutters in Danish about stupid, idiot guys, talking about both him and Patrik. He gathers up the spoons and tub of ice cream, shoving them onto the little hotel table and too fucking bad if it melts. Then he straddles Patrik’s lap, much to Patrik’s barely concealed delight. 

“We are so stupid,” Nikolaj announces. He pushes Patrik down so he lying on the bed. “We could have been doing this sooner. More often. If we want to touch each other’s dicks, let’s just touch each other’s dicks.”

Patrik laughs, and his hands go up under Nikolaj’s shirt.

“And!” Nikolaj sits up again and brandish a finger through the air like a sword. “We are both getting naked together at some point.”

“Okay, cool.” Patrik pushes up to his elbows and pulls his shirt off. 

Nikolaj laughs. “I didn’t mean right now.” He pulls his shirt off too.

“We have a bit of time before dinner.” Patrik wiggles out of his jeans and briefs, jostling Nikolaj around. Nikolaj gets up and gets undressed, wanting nothing more than to be pressed naked against Patrik. He crawls back onto the bed, hovering over Patrik.

Then Patrik’s words catch up in Nikolaj’s brain. “Wait. You’re actually going out tonight?”

Patrik pulls Nikolaj down, pressing his face against his neck. “The things I’ll do for you.” His teeth lightly scrape Nikolaj’s neck. “The things I’m going to do to you, too.”

Nikolaj can’t fucking wait.


End file.
